


The Color of Kings: Gray

by ssa_archivist



Series: Color of Kings [3]
Category: Smallville
Genre: Drama, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-04-27
Updated: 2003-04-27
Packaged: 2017-11-01 11:39:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/356306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ssa_archivist/pseuds/ssa_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gray is open to interpretation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Color of Kings: Gray

## The Color of Kings: Gray

by SkaterBoy

<http://www.livejournal.com/~skaterboyslash>

* * *

Title: The Color of Kings: Gray  
Category: Drama  
Rating: R  
Pairing: Clark/Lex  
Summary: Gray is open to interpretation. 

* * *

Author's Note: Part 3 in the Color of Kings series. Feedback: Is much appreciated and keeps the sequels coming. 

* * *

It was too easy, and Lex wasn't satisfied with that. He didn't deign to return to the mansion, but stopped instead at the cemetary. The car looked dull in the black night, street lights no match for darkness, true gray of the tombstones reflecting the silver flash of Lex's eyes. Never alone, Lex could keep his own company and find victory in it, in the cemetary where death was so close to him. The headstones of Lana's parents, Clark's paternal grandparents, and there was sweet justice in being here, where he would not be buried, because he planned to go out in a blaze of glory leaving nothing behind. 

This was a place for meditation and planning. He found solace in death, in its permanence. The night wasn't nearly oppressive enough. Lex needed to be closed in, surrounded by inevitability, gray that offered the hope of green. He would find the source. 

His next destination was the caves. A place Clark liked to go, something about destiny and history, two of the rare things that Lex appreciated. The drawings were childish but informative, and Lex was certain it had to be a hoax, but they meant so much to Clark that Lex was certain he could discover the secret there. The drawings were too simple. They had to be about more than the scribbled shapes, the primary colors, the patterns and screaming faces. Lex was reminded of Munch, and smiled again, wondering what scared Clark the most, what would make him scream with terror. Clark had many weaknesses, green most obviously but there was a gray there too, something he didn't share, and Lex would make him pay for that. 

The bridge was familiar, not necessarily relevent but meant more than anything else, so Lex went there next. He parked the Lamborghini on the shoulder and walked down the embankment, not stopping when he felt his Italian leather shoes fill with water. The water soon weighted down his slacks, ankles first, calves to knees to thighs. Lex ran his fingers over the surface of the water, looking into the distance at gray fields of corn and gray asphalt, water swishing past his legs when he turned to contemplate the car. 

Let himself lay back on the water, dead man's float, moonless sky above as his lavender shirt soaked through. Shoes were heavy things, filled with water, so Lex toed them off, pictured them sinking to the bottom of the sacred river. Sacred only to him, only to those who had almost died there, and Lex closed his eyes laying in what should have been his watery tomb, but unfortunately he was very much alive, and starting to get cold. Kings didn't get cold, though, so Lex ignored the feeling, imagined being pulled under, his lungs filling with water and his eyes turning black and blank. 

It wasn't that easy, though, and Lex knew it wasn't time to win. He'd come back here, after he took care of Clark, gave him everything and took it away. All in good time, and the stars above winked at him, sparks of white in the black sky. Lex winked back, enjoying the sounds of the water splashing lightly under his fingers, wondering how long it would be. Not too long, he hoped, and let the current float him down the river. 

His socks were soaked through when he stood on the bank again, too far from his car to make out the driver's side mirror. No matter, because it was almost over. He didn't bother to get dry before sitting in the driver's seat, adjusted the mirror to look one last time at his beloved river. It would hold him again, he knew, and that thought weighted his foot on gas. 

The traffic light was yellow when he approached, and the car hummed to him encouragingly. Lex grinned up at the light, and dared it to turn red, and it did. He slowed the car, not stopping because the light was red, but because he wanted to see it turn green. Green like the meteor rocks he would use to destroy Clark, glowing and deadly in his hands, Lana's necklace. 

The red of the traffic light reflected against the yellow of the hood, into Lex's eyes. He thought of Clark's cock, and how red it had been, and how he had made it that way. The red of the barn, where Clark would end, the red of fire and red meteor rocks that didn't glow but made Clark say hateful things to him despite their supposed friendship. The shade of red, pink, that Lana always wore, the innocent school girl he'd take care of next, just to hurt Clark. 

Then the light turned green, and Lex shifted and headed for the mansion. Still wet, his shirt looked gray in the darkness, and Lex knew his eyes were the same color. When he got to his office, he flicked on the light, and took Machiavelli from the drawer. After reading over his favorite passages, Lex slept with _The Prince_. 

The sky outside his bedroom window started changing at around five in the morning. No longer black, comforting gray, and Lex smiled to himself. 

So many things could happen in the light of gray. 


End file.
